


Central Academy Alchemist Club

by Nice_Valkyrie



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ouran High School Host Club, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Military Academy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13028658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nice_Valkyrie/pseuds/Nice_Valkyrie
Summary: Riza Hawkeye, a first-year student at Amestris’s most prestigious military academy, is the newest member of the school’s most exclusive club.  There’s just one problem—she’s not an alchemist!





	Central Academy Alchemist Club

Central Academy was _huge_.

Riza Hawkeye found it difficult not to be overwhelmed as she walked through the main building. The halls were cavernous, with vaulted ceilings and marble floors that made the click of her shoes echo–and that was the _main building_. Through the panes of windows three times her height she could see some of the rest of the school’s campus: the barracks, the enormous bell tower, the winding road that led to the shooting range. The landscaping rivaled that of an arboretum and was laid out with the precision and organization expected from a military school.

She almost had to remind herself of that fact. The Academy functioned as the main feeder for the Amestrian military. There were other military schools, but none were so prestigious as Central. Here, the country’s top prospects were schooled in history and science, trained in combat, and groomed to become upstanding citizens and useful soldiers.

Or at least that was what the brochures said, and what Riza had believed. So far, all she had seen were unruly cadets who seemed to have nothing better to do than make the fairytale-worthy libraries rowdier than a bonfire, and…and grope each other shamelessly in the corners of hallways.

Riza turned on her heel away from the passionate couple and went down the next hallway she came to. There had to be somewhere she could read undisturbed in this place. She hadn’t studied day and night for four months straight just to flunk out of Central during her second week. She would never disappoint herself like that.

This hallway was empty except for her, and gave the impression of seeing less use. Riza came to a room marked MUSIC NO. 3. That looked promising. She hadn’t seen a single instrument or even heard a snatch of song since she had arrived; this room was likely empty. She opened the unlocked door and stepped in.

“ _Welcome!”_

Riza froze, her hand still on the doorknob. The room was _not_ empty. The room was full of chairs, and tables of varying sizes, and several students who had all greeted her in sync and were now examining her closely.

She felt the heat of self-consciousness crawling up her neck. Was her shirt coming untucked? Was her hair out of place?

One boy stepped forward. He had black hair that hung too artfully into his eyes for its messiness to be entirely unintentional. _He’s cute_ , Riza observed, and then immediately suffocated the thought—she had no time for boys.

“Welcome to the Alchemist Club,” Cute— _no_ , Messy-Hair Boy said in a surprisingly deep baritone. “We’re Central Academy’s most interesting, specialized group of students, who use our considerable talents to entertain our bored and easily-impressed peers.”

A chill flew down Riza’s spine. She grasped for words. “I didn’t know the academy had an alchemy club,” she managed.

“You’re a first-year, aren’t you?” This came from another dark-haired boy; his hair was longer and tied back in a tail, though a couple of strands had come loose in front of his face.

“Yes.”

He turned to two blond boys who were vaguely familiar to Riza, and looked too similar to be unrelated. “Ed. Al. Is she in your classes?”

“Yeah, some of them,” chorused the boys, “but we’ve never talked to her. She keeps to herself.”

Then the long-haired blond elbowed the short-haired one. “Quit talking in sync with me! It’s creepy!”

Ponytail Boy ignored this entirely. “Hmm,” he said, and his tone was entirely too smug for Riza’s liking as he returned his attention to her. “Let’s get to know her, then. You must be Riza Hawkeye, yes?”

Riza was well-practiced at keeping a straight face, which served her well at that moment. “How could you possibly know that?”

“You passed the entrance exams with the highest marks this year. The board was very excited to accept you, despite the fact that you were homeschooled by your father your entire life.”

“You’re certainly knowledgeable,” said Riza flatly.

“Hawkeye?” said Messy-Hair Boy. “As in Berthold Hawkeye? As in the reclusive independent alchemist?”

The last of Riza’s token friendliness evaporated. “Yes. He’s my father.”

“Then you _must_ join our club,” he said. There was a note of finality in his voice that left Riza bristling. How arrogant could someone be? “We’re a collection of the most talented in the school. Since you’re Berthold Hawkeye’s daughter, you definitely belong with us.”

A dozen thoughts flickered through Riza’s head. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea,” she said. “I was just looking for a place to study.”

“Don’t argue with me,” he said, pointing— _pointing_ —at her. “There’s only one alchemist club in the school, you know.”

They thought she was one of them. They thought she was an alchemist. Riza knew she needed to correct that assumption as quickly as possible. But at the same time, a dozen unpleasant memories rose to the forefront of her mind: her alchemist father, clutching his notes, eyes flashing, looming over her as she scribbled at the work he had assigned her— _That’s not the right answer, Riza!_

She gulped. “Well—"

“You’re one of us now, and that’s that,” the boy said, and his face broke into a wide smile. They were all smiling at her, actually, and Riza’s cheeks were flushed again, but she could tell it wasn’t just self-consciousness that had her face warm now. _They think you’re an_ alchemist, she reminded herself forcefully. Their approval of her was founded on a lie. They would probably turn her out as soon as they discovered the truth, which she _should_ tell them immediately, and what was Roy saying while she was distracted with all of this?

“So,” he was saying, “do you have a specialty yet? We try to keep things diverse enough that our clients can pick and choose what they want to see.” He indicated each member of the group in turn as Riza nodded along and tried to find an appropriate time to turn the mood from upbeat to unpleasant:

The impossibly tall and muscled boy with a shaved head was “Alex Armstrong, who’s interested in alchemy’s uses in close combat and artillery.”

The impossibly tiny girl with long black braids and a colorful dress was “May Chang, an exchange student from Xing. She’s an expert in alkahestry, which is their brand of alchemy. Medical.”

The two blond boys were “Edward and Alphonse Elric, brothers from Risembool, who are both interested in biological and metal-based alchemy. Not at the same time. Well, sort of at the same time? I should let them explain it to you.”

The boy with long dark hair, who had so unnerved Riza with his knowledge of her, was “Solf Kimblee, interested in combustion-based alchemy.”

“And I’m Roy Mustang,” he finished, jerking his thumb at his own chest. “I don’t have a specialty yet. You can feel free to think of me as a jack-of-all-trades.”

“Bullshit,” muttered Edward.

“Watch the tone,” warned Roy.

Riza was watching the point of no return zoom away in her rear view. “Listen, Roy, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t join your—”

“Guests,” announced Kimblee.

Behind Riza, the rumbling of conversation she had vaguely been tracking swelled up and crashed into the room as the door burst open. Riza found herself pulled out of the way of the dozen or so students who had all entered at once.

“Our afternoon show,” thundered the voice of Alex Armstrong in her ear. “Best prepare yourself.”

Now she was really stuck in her role.

“You can come with me,” said little May, appearing on Riza’s other side. She tugged Riza’s hand and led her with surprising strength to a side door, where Riza discovered that this disused music space was somehow much larger than she’d expected.

“It’s very simple here,” May explained. “We serve our guests refreshments—tea, coffee, and snacks—and perform a little alchemy for them. Just simple things, like repairing a broken glass, or transmuting paper flowers. They love it!”

That seemed pretty dangerous to Riza, whose previous experiences with alchemy had involved a lot more risk. And May was so small and seemingly helpless…But evidently she was still an alchemist, so Riza would have to play along. “May?” she said as they left the increasing noise of the main room. “Roy said you do something called alkahestry?”

“That’s right!” chirped May. She dropped Riza’s hand and tugged a door open. “There are some spare cloaks in the closet here. Try to find one that fits and swooshes nicely when you walk. The guests like that.”

The blue cloaks were silky and surprisingly light when Riza selected one at random. “So, alkahestry is…what? Some kind of specialty?”

“It’s what we have in Xing instead of alchemy. It’s okay that you haven’t heard of it—most people haven’t. Roy actually thought I had made a mistake drawing a five-pointed star in my circle the first time he saw me.”

Riza, shrugging on the cloak, had only the faintest understanding of what May was saying. She usually avoided looking at her father’s work. “Is that different?”

May blinked a few times at her. Then her cheerful expression widened into a polite, if uncertain, grin. “Yes. Um…” May stuck her head back out into the main room, then gestured at Riza. “I think you’re needed in the kitchen. It’s on the other side.”

Riza liked the way the cloak rippled out behind her as she walked. She was less certain about the attention it drew from the other students, who watched her go by with rather more interest than Riza had ever been subjected to by strangers in her life.

Well, they thought she could do alchemy. For some people that was all that mattered.

The kitchen was just as well-stocked as anything else in the Academy, though Riza wasn’t quite sure why a music class would have need of a full sink, stovetop, or oven. And she didn’t even know why she had been directed in here in the first place.

“Darling, would you brew up a pot of tea?”

Riza whipped her head around so fast that she felt something pop. “Excuse me?”

Roy Mustang’s charm-bomb smile slipped, just a little, at the look on her face, but he pushed himself off the wall where he’d been leaning and sauntered toward her anyway. “Don’t take it personally. It’s important to enchant the guests, you know.”

“By calling them ‘darling?’”

“Sure,” said Roy. His eyes were a very, very dark brown, and his voice was low and velvety. “Darling…dear...sweetheart…”

“Hey, Hawkeye, you got that tea ready yet?”

Riza tore her gaze away from Roy. The long-haired Elric brother had come up on Roy’s side, a scowl on his young-looking face.

“Not yet,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s easily distracted, it seems,” murmured Roy.

“Beat it, Mustang,” said Ed. “Save the flirting for the idiots who come here with the express purpose of being dazzled. Don’t subject the rest of us to it just for practice.”

Roy opened his mouth again, but just then the other Elric brother, Alphonse, stepped up to his other side, for which Riza was grateful. She wasn’t sure if she could have dealt with any more of Mustang’s relentless personality—she got the sense that he wholeheartedly enjoyed being the way he was.

“Someone’s asking for you, Roy,” said Al. “You’d better get back out there.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair. “Of course they’re asking for me,” he said, more to himself than the rest of them. He nodded at Riza. “Get that tea ready, all right?”

Al turned to Riza when Roy had swept out of the room. “Don’t pay Roy any attention when he’s like that. He just likes to flirt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Al smiled at her. It was a nice expression on his round, open face. “We do usually try to have the tea ready to go right when the guests arrive, though. When you showed up, we got a little off-schedule.”

“Usually?” Ed snorted. “Please. When are we ever running according to schedule?”

“You’re the only one who’s consistently late, brother,” said Al reproachfully.

“I am _not_!”

“Riza,” said Al with supreme indifference, “there’s some chalk in the drawer there and a space on the counter for you to draw a transmutation circle, if you’d like. Or the floor’s fine. They’re cleaned every day.”

Riza swallowed. Making tea with alchemy couldn’t be much different than making tea without it. She would start by boiling water. Surely she had seen her father do that before—but nothing came to mind as she opened the drawer, took out a stick of chalk, and tried to figure out how to hold it, conscious of the Elrics’ eyes watching her every move.

There would be no graceful way out of this one. Riza would have to settle for blunt.

“Could you leave?”

“Leave?” said Ed. “Why?”

“I’m self-conscious,” said Riza, crossing her arms. “I prefer to draw my, ah, transmutation circles in peace.”

Al and Ed frowned identically at her. It would have made her smile if she hadn’t so needed them to believe her.

So Riza let her voice go meek and embarrassed. “I can’t draw them if anyone’s watching me.”

“Are you serious? What good is that?” said Ed.

Al moved to smack Ed’s arm, but as soon as he raised his hand they had another one of those moments that made Riza wonder if they were actually twins: both shot each other sharp, knowing looks.

“I’m sorry, Riza,” said Al as he tugged on Ed’s sleeve. “We’ll leave you alone now.”

“I’m sure Roy needs us for something,” said Ed, backing away.

When they were gone, Riza felt calm enough to let out a little sigh. It had been a while since she had needed to call up that tone of voice—a while since her father had ranted at her for more than half an hour. That was the limit that she had eventually decided upon for submissive silence. After that, it was abject contrition, for as long as necessary. It was good to know that it worked on other people, too.

The problem of the tea remained, but because she could now solve it on her own terms, Riza was no longer ruffled. She filled the kettle with water, set it on the stove, turned the burner on, and then found and arranged a dozen little china teacups on a round silver serving platter. She couldn’t keep from glancing at the door.

Why was she even trying to maintain this façade? Why was she playing along?

The sounds of cheerful conversation filtered in from the other room, and a burst of deep laughter rang out above the other noises.

Riza looked at the teacups. It was wasteful to use alchemy for something so mundane, anyway.

The water boiled soon enough, and Riza filled each cup, sighing in relief when the tray was full. _No one had to know_. At least not right now.

“Ah! Our beverages have been prepared!”

Armstrong’s voice seemed to fill the room; so did Armstrong himself. Riza stiffened involuntarily, feeling trapped between the still-hot stovetop and his bulk. “Yes, the tea’s ready,” she said, a little too tersely.

There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Armstrong took a large step back. “My apologies, Miss Riza.”

Riza peered at him. There was something odder about the man than just his ridiculous height, build, and hair—for now that he was closer, Riza could see that he was not entirely bald, but instead sported a single curl of blond hair that dangled oddly over his forehead. He came off as rigidly formal, if energetically so, but every time he spoke Riza felt like there was something more exuberant waiting to burst out of him.

“No need to apologize,” she said, and she was vindicated when he smiled beatifically.

“Then I shall deliver the tea to the main room at once.”

Riza watched it unfold in horror: Armstrong slid one hand under the tray’s edge and put his elbow down to pick it up—right on the still-hot stove.

“ _Oh_ —!" Armstrong jerked his arm away from the burner, his face twisted in pain. Somehow he had managed to keep all the teacups on the serving platter, which he now held aloft with his elbow straight out, shaking.

“Did you burn yourself?” said Riza immediately. “Let’s put some water on it, and I’ll find an ointment—”

“Not to worry, Miss Riza,” said Armstrong, and though his voice was tight and his smile strained, he seemed to mean it. “I was—merely surprised that the stove was on. I will see you in the main room.” He dipped his head to her, then turned on his heel and strode away with the tea, surprisingly graceful for a man of his size.

Riza wanted to ponder his words, but she was preoccupied with another thought: she really should know where the first aid supplies were kept. Especially with a bunch of alchemists around, the risk of small injuries was high. They would have to have ointment and gauze for burns—oh, and cuts, too, she supposed. It seemed possible that other alchemists could obtain different injuries…

_I will see you in the main room_.

Riza steeled herself, rearranged the shoulders of the cloak where they had started to bunch around her neck, and entered the circus.

It wasn’t as bad as she had expected. Roy threw an arm around her, hauled her to the center of the room, and announced her to everyone as their newest alchemist; the guests, most of whom were girls, clapped somewhat enthusiastically, though their interest waned when Riza admitted that she wasn’t going to perform anything that day. Instead, Riza had served tea and sandwiches while Ed and Al did something on a table with a miniature suit of armor. After that, Roy parked her on a couch between two giggling brunettes and had her watch Armstrong transmute a life-size wooden swan out of the floor. Riza was duly impressed, though she was now concerned about the floor’s integrity. She couldn’t help her wince when Armstrong sat down heavily.

The swan was beautiful, though. Riza had never really thought of using alchemy like that.

Eventually, Armstrong wrapped up his show with several deep bows, and the Elrics began ushering the other students out the door. Riza took May’s lead and began gathering up the discarded dishes that now littered the room. Roy and Kimblee were looking over whatever it was that Kimblee had been occupied with during the afternoon—he hadn’t participated in the show or even spoken to anyone, only hunched himself over some papers at a corner table and written steadily.

As Riza brought a final stack of dishes into the kitchen, she became aware that all the other club members had followed her in. She set the dishes by the sink and turned to face them. “Is something wrong?”

Roy was grinning in that way Riza had already decided she disliked. “It was fine that you didn’t perform today, you know. Stage fright is normal. But I think I’ve come up with the perfect way for you to use your alchemy now.”

“And how is that?” said Riza weakly.

Roy’s eyes took on a more dangerous gleam, and he pointed with a flourish at the pile of plates and cups. “You’ll clean the dishes for us!”

So this was it. The game was over. They had been her friends for this afternoon, but once they knew what she was, they would turn her out and she would be just as alone as she had always been, back to trying to navigate Central Academy alone.

Strangely, she didn’t feel as anxious as she had earlier. Perhaps her nerves had been so stretched all day that some tension had actually gone out of them.

The others, Riza saw, seemed just as eager as their leader—but they were watching Roy as much as they were watching her.

She squared her shoulders and hoped her voice would be steady. “I can’t do it.”

“Of course you can,” said Roy. He took a step toward her and for just a second Riza thought he was going to touch her. Instead, he reached around her to open a cupboard and retrieve—chalk, of course, apparently they had the stuff coming out of their ears. Roy took her hand and pressed the chalk into it. “Don’t be nervous,” he said.

Riza didn’t need encouragement, and she definitely didn’t need Roy Mustang holding her hand. She shook him free, set the chalk on the counter behind her, and said clearly, “I’m not an alchemist.”

Roy was so transparent. His smile froze on his face and his voice pitched up a little as he struggled to make sense of the new information. “Not…? You’re not—an alchemist?”

“No.” Riza held her breath.

The edges of Roy’s mouth dipped into a frown and for half a second Riza wasn’t sure she had made the right decision at all.

“You lied to us?” he said, and he actually sounded a little hurt.

“Technically, she never told us she was an alchemist,” Al pointed out.

“You’ll recall that most of the staff were surprised that she opted to take the general entrance exams, rather than bypassing the admittance procedures directly through her alchemical knowledge,” said Kimblee. “But that decision makes a bit more sense now, doesn’t it?”

Riza kept her tone even, even as she rankled at his words. “I would have done that anyway. I believe it’s better to earn your own merit by proving it, rather than relying on flash and spectacle to get yourself ahead in life.”

“That’s _not_ what alchemy’s about,” said Ed indignantly. Al put a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“This is irrelevant,” said Roy. “She didn’t tell us she _wasn’t_ an alchemist, either. And we—I—” He ran a hand through his hair and looked helplessly at the others, who shrugged or merely stared back in amusement. “We already announced her as one…”

 “I suppose you’ll just have to…un-announce me,” said Riza.

“We can’t _do_ that,” said Roy. “They’ll never take us seriously again.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And we already ordered you supplies.”

“Supplies?” said Riza.

“We can cancel the order,” offered Kimblee. “And suffer the wrath of the school board.”

“The loss of revenue,” said Al quietly.

“And the _embarrassment_ ,” said Ed.

“Shut up, all of you,” said Roy.

He straightened himself up and gave Riza a thoughtful, appraising look. “You would be useful, you know,” he said finally. “The students liked you, even though you didn’t perform any alchemy—they told me so. And you’re clever enough, and charming.”

The others were nodding at that, to Riza’s surprise; it felt like a warm glow in her stomach.

“Listen,” said Roy. “We’re supposed to do a demonstration at the graduation ceremony this year. We _can_ do what we’re planning with only six people, but it would be better with seven. I think you would make a wonderful addition to our club. How about it?”

Riza’s mouth worked uselessly for a few seconds. “But I’m still not an alchemist,” she finally managed. “That’s not going to change!”

Roy grinned at her. “It won’t matter. We’ll figure something out so you can do alchemy for a crowd—or at least appear to do alchemy.”

“So we’ll be working together to fool the guests?” said Al.

“We’ll have to put on quite a performance,” said Armstrong thoughtfully.

“We’ll trick them into seeing what we want them to see,” said Ed, his eyes lighting up.

“How delightfully manipulative,” murmured Kimblee.

“And as far as anyone knows,” said May, “you’ll be another alchemist!”

Roy held out his hand to her. “That’s right, Riza Hawkeye. Starting today, you can consider yourself an alchemist!”

Riza looked at his hand for a long moment. Then, as she glanced at the other club members, and Roy’s encouraging expression, she realized that she wasn’t scared of them anymore. The fear of what they would do if she walked away was gone. All that was left was the uncertainty, the feeling of the possible paths in front of her diverging. Riza couldn’t see where they led. She wasn’t sure what the right choice was.

But Roy was sure.

She shook his hand.

Joining the Alchemist Club was the first decision Riza Hawkeye trusted Roy Mustang to make for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Like many others, I was inspired to write something based off the fact that Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and Ouran High School Host Club share an English dub cast. It’s not a crossover, though: the world and characters are both of the FMA:B canon. Nor are the characters mapped to their voice actors. Mostly, this is an exercise in exploring characters, character development, and relationships through interactions not present in canon—and, hopefully, it’ll be fun, too. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Thanks for reading!


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